


Explorations by Starlight

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Asian Character(s), Culture Shock, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 12:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Shepard and Garrus explore some of the biological differences between humans and turians in the few hours before the Omega 4 mission.





	Explorations by Starlight

So…” Garrus drawled, and pulled the sheets over his carapace, pulling it tight over his chest in what was frankly a complete parody of modesty.  
  
“Yeah?” Killua stretched, turning onto his side so he could get a better view at Garrus’ eyes. He hoped Garrus wasn’t regretting what they had done together – it had been pretty great, from his point of view.  
  
“That was… different,” Garrus said, mandibles sliding out into what Killua recognized as a smile.  
  
“Good different?” Killua asked, grabbing one of Garrus’ strange hands and holding it in his own. The three fingers – no, _talons –_ folded themselves between his fingers, and Killua marveled at just how easy it had been to thread their fingers together – something like hand holding seemed overwhelmingly complicated not two months ago, the first time Garrus had blurted out something about _tie-breaking_.  
  
“Yeah.” Garrus nodded. “Different, but good.”   
  
“First guy?”  
  
Garrus nodded and laughed. “First turian?”  
  
“Yeah.” He squeezed his talons. “But I think we did okay, for two rookies.”  
  
“Well, you know.” Garrus shrugged his hand out of his grip, running it up his arm instead. “Neither of us misses the target too often.”  
  
“Yeah.” Killua laughed, a bit too eagerly, but Garrus didn’t withdraw. “Gotta admit, wasn’t a shot I thought we’d be taking a few months ago.”  
  
“Yeah, well…” Garrus dropped the arm low, around his waist, and Killua scrambled closer to him, eager to feel that newfound, alien warmth. “Suicide mission has a hell of a way of focusing you on what you really want, huh?”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, mood thoroughly sobered but still not quite ready to leave the embrace of his new lover. They’d be pulled apart soon enough. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”  
  
Garrus snorted, and Killua put a hand on Garrus’ thin, unplated waist, amused by the contrast of colors between Garrus and himself: both of them nut brown, but the texture was so different. Garrus’ thick, velvety hide felt sturdy, reassuring. Garrus curled his hand under Killua’s shoulder, and Killua wondered if perhaps he was thinking the same thing.  
  
“Not really my kind of thing,” Garrus drawled. “Usually, when you’re _this_ good looking, the women – or, men, in this case – come to you.”  
  
“So, what… no men came knocking? Or is the Hierarchy against that sort of thing?”  
  
“Well…” Garrus shrugged. “The females, in my species are usually the… aggressors. Males seeking males are usually more subtle.”  
  
“And you’re about as subtle as a brick.” Kallua said, biting back a laugh at how shy and _flustered_ Garrus had looked when he talked about tie-breakers.  
  
“Says the man who is about as subtle as high-grade armor piercing ammo, loaded into a finely calibrated Mantis.”  
  
“Point stands.” Killua snorted. “You wouldn’t recognize a man flirting with you if he kept say, dropping his ammo clip in front of you and bending down to pick it up.”  
  
“…That was flirting?” Garrus blinked. “And all this time, I thought you were just clumsy.”  
  
“I rest my case. Garrus Vakarian is oblivious to flirting. Human-style, at least.”  
  
“Yeah, well…” Garrus’s talons curled tight against his skin. “Seems like I can pick up on some signals.”  
  
“When I deliberately proposition you, yes.”  
  
Garrus hummed, mandibles flaring out in a smile. “I kind of wish I hadn’t been so nervous now. Would have liked to have more than just one night together.”  
  
“Well, it was a pretty spectacular night.”   
  
Garrus snorted.   
  
“Hey, I mean it. It was good. Tomorrow…” he said, squeezing Garrus’ wiry waist. “…Will be even better.”  
  
“Yeah. Hope so.” Garrus stretched out and stared up at the stars, and Killua looked up with him, toward the relay they were inevitably pulling near – and their overwhelmingly likely deaths. The stars seemed cold, and far, far too fast.  
  
Garrus pulled his arm back, and Killua immediately missed it.  “Killua, can I ask you something? I’ve always wondered this, but well… it never seemed right to ask.”  
  
“Sure.”   
  
“Well… it’s kind of personal.”   
  
Killua laughed. “Garrus, I’m pretty sure we’re on _personal question_ terms.”  
  
“Okay.” Garrus took a deep breath. “Here goes.”  
  
He opened his mouth, and closed it, and Killua smirked. He leaned closer, left just the smallest of pecks on Garrus’ cheek.  
  
“Cat got your tongue?”  
  
“…I’m not entirely sure what a cat is, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want it to play with my tongue based on the images the visor is throwing at me.”  
  
Killua just smirked.  
  
Garrus looked at him a long second, and then blurted out:  “What’s the deal with your…eyes?  
  
“What?” His smirk vanished abruptly.  What? Garrus, what on earth…?”  
  
“Your eyes.” Garrus jabbed a talon toward his eyes, as if Killua needed instruction to identify them.  
  
“What about them?”  
  
“They’re… different from anyone else’s on the ship. Is it some kind of tech that causes them to look like that? I’ve seen a few people on the Citadel with the same deal, and always assumed… Well, some kind of visor, perhaps? Or automated targeting system installed sub-dermally?”  
  
“No, no.” Killua laughed. “They’re all organic. It’s just an ethnic difference in some humans.”  
  
“So like… a mutation?”  
  
“Sort of. It’s something that my ancestors had, to help them adjust to their environment.”  
  
“Oh.” Garrus closed his eyes. “I’d always assumed it was some kind of… tech.” He sounded unsurprisingly disappointed.   
  
“Nope. Genetic variation. Earth’s got a lot of different environments, and we developed a lot of ways to help fit in with it.”  
  
“Oh.” Garrus was silent for a moment, staring at him with eyes no doubt wondering how many mutations, exactly, Shepard had in his genetic line. “…Does that mean the color doesn’t mean anything either?”  
  
“Nope.”   
  
“Damn.” Garrus shook his head. “I owe Chellick twenty bucks.”  
  
“Well, I won’t tell him if you don’t.” He patted Garrus hand, not wanting to point out that he would probably never get the chance to pay him back.  
  
“So…” Garrus drawled, and Shepard propped his head up on his palm as Garrus seemed to mull over the best way to ask his next question.  
  
“What other kinds of….mutations….” Garrus spluttered, eyes drifting downwards, and Shepard bit back a laugh.  
  
“That’s not mutated, I assure you.” Shepard waved a hand through his hair, the dark and wavy locks curling round his fingers. “These are, though.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. Humans have different hair types thanks to mutations that affected our bodies' melanin levels.”  
  
“…Is that why humans have so many different hair colors?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s just… genetic variety.”   
  
“Oh.” Garrus sounded disappointed – again. “I thought that was for camouflage.”  
  
“Well, it can be used that way, but you’ll find human nature is not so practical, Garrus.”  
  
Garrus snorted. “So…how come your hair is all, uh….” Garrus curled one talon in quick circles. “I mean, compared to Miranda or uh Ash, I mean, their hair is all…”   
  
Garrus glided the same finger down in a straight line. You know, more…linear?”  
  
“They have straight, fine hair; mine’s curly and coarse. That’s caused by genetics, too.”  
  
Garrus stared at him. “But…why?”  
  
“Different ethnic groups breeding in different places – certain traits lived on, and certain traits died out. Hair like mine is rare in Asia, but – it happens. It’s a bit more common among islanders, like me.”  
  
“Oh.” Garrus scratched his cheek. “Well, I’ve never seen the point of hair anyway.”  
  
“You would if you were human.” He laughed. “Useful for keeping dust and water and all kinds of things out of your eyes.”  
  
“But isn’t that the job of your tertiary eyelid?’ Garrus blinked. “I mean, I know human skin is thin, but – “  
  
“We don’t have two eyelids, Garrus, let alone _three_.”  
  
“…But what do you do to protect your eyes from solar radiation?” Garrus looked at him, mandibles wide in horror. “How do you …. _live_?”  
  
“Sunglasses, visors.” He tapped Garrus’ visor. “Like I said, nature sometimes just isn’t that practical.”  
  
“Well, it sounds like it has a lot of variables to…calibrate.” Garrus mumbled.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t turians have this, too?”  
  
“Not really, no.” Garrus gave him a lazy smile, a sort of half-smirk as he raised one mandible and quickly dropped it. “Why do you think we get the marks?”  
  
“'Because they look pretty.” Killua leaned over and delicately traced the line of blue on Garrus’ face, between cheek, nose, and mandible.   
  
Garrus snorted, and Killua marveled at the shifting plates under his fingers. He’d always assumed they’d be cold, but they weren’t: while they were not as pliant as human skin, Garrus’ plates were as warm as his flesh and utterly pleasant to touch.  
  
“It’s more to be able to tell friendlies apart in the case of the next Unification War.”  
  
“You really think that’s a possibility?”  
  
Garrus shrugged. “We like to fight. And if there wasn’t an outside enemy to fight… Well, your neighbor is as good a target as any.”  
  
“So is that the stigma with barefaces? Not able to tell which side?”  
  
“Yeah. Couldn’t really tell ourselves apart otherwise.”  
  
“That’s not true.” He squeezed Garrus’ hand. “I’ve met turians who look different from you. I mean, you and Saren, I could definitively tell apart.” He grazed his hand across Garrus’ warm cheek. “No risk of shooting the wrong one there.”  
  
“Yeah, well, Saren was also half-machine at that point, so excuse me if I don’t take that as a compliment.”  
  
“Yeah, but besides that.” Killua flexed his hand over one of Garrus’ shorter spines. “I remember these were longer on him, and his face had a lot of uh, like… bands?”   
  
His hand moved toward Garrus’ mouthplates, and a blue tongue wrapped around his finger the second he was in range. “Garrus!”  
  
“Hey, don’t stick your fingers in a predatory species’ jaw,” Garrus laughed. “You know I can’t resist the…taste… of, uh…”   
  
“Smooth.” He pressed a kiss to Garrus’ mouth-plates, and got a soft purr for his efforts. “But my point stands. His mouth was weird.”  
  
“Well, it had been blasted off a few times, which would tend to mess with one’s looks.”   
  
“I’ve heard scars can be attractive on a man,” he drawled, gently pressing his fingers to Garrus’  damaged mandible.  
  
“Only to you.” Garrus chuckled softly. “Though I am thankful—”  
  
“Wouldn’t say to just me.” Shepard traced the jaw. “I saw how that asari was looking at you, last time we stopped off at the Citadel.”  
  
Garrus rolled his eyes. “Bit early to start getting jealous. We haven’t even had a first date yet.” He sat back, snorting. “Not likely to have one, either, considering we start a suicide run in about an hour.”  
  
Killua flinched. “Don’t talk like that.”  
  
“I’m a turian, Shepard.” Garrus shrugged. “We know long odds in a fight when we see them.”  
  
“Hey, what’s probability to you and me?” Shepard propped himself up on his elbow. “When have we let the odds get in our way before?”  
  
Garrus snorted again. “You have a point.”  
  
“Yeah.” He pulled Garrus closer, curling long arms around his side. “You’re damn right I do.”   
  
“Yeah.” Garrus stroked his hair oddly, his fingertips just skimming the top of it, as if he didn’t know _how_ to pet a creature with hair, even hair as short as Shepard’s.     
They were quiet for a good long while. Garrus got the hang of stroking his hair, and Killua sighed appreciatively into his shoulder. Garrus was warm, and he felt his eyes start to close, felt sleep pulling them shut; he tried to fight it, but felt himself nodding off quickly.  
  
“Shepard?” Garrus didn’t sound far from nodding off himself.  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“Don’t die,” Garrus whispered.   
  
“You neither.” Killua yawned. “Otherwise, that first date is gonna suck.”  
  
“Yeah.” Garrus chuckled. “If we survive this, I’m taking you to the best levo/dextro cafe on the Citadel. My treat.”  
  
“Sounds like a good start.” Killua squeezed his arm tight. “Looking forward to it.”  
  
“Me too.”   
  
\- - -  
  
Killua wasn’t aware, exactly, when he drifted off, but he knew that he had done so when the next thing he heard was the loud alarm indicating they were a half an hour out from the Omega 4 relay.  
  
Garrus groaned. “Guess the honeymoon is over.”  
  
“Now who’s moving too fast,” Killua whispered, giving Garrus a quick peck on the cheek.  
  
Garrus grumbled something incoherent as Killua started the arduous process of putting on his armor.  
  
He’d just gotten his under-suit on and was starting to zip up the back when he felt Garrus’ eyes on him. He turned around and caught his glance. “What’s up?”  
  
“Your human bodies,” Garrus’ mandibles twitched. “They’re so… _bendy_.”  
  
“You don’t know the half of it.” Killua’s mouth twisted into a smirk. One night hadn’t been nearly enough to show Garrus the full flexibility a human body was capable of.  
  
“You’ll have to show me.” Garrus’ mandibles tilted out in what was either a goofy smile or a bit of a frown; Killua wasn’t good enough at reading turians yet to tell which, but both seemed appropriate.  
  
“Next time,” he promised, and ignored the way his voice shook.  
  
“Yeah.” Garrus shifted behind him, and he heard him rustling for his clothes. Killua didn’t turn back to look at him, afraid of what he might say.  
  
“Next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this request, from an Anonymouse on Tumblr: "I have a Shepard. He's an Asian male and his name is Killua. There is very little fanfiction about an Asian Shepard. Can you write something with my Shepard and Garrus being in a relationship and Garrus questioning diversity in humans (race, ethnicity, etc)" (Anon, do you have an Ao3? Let me know so I can gift it to you!) 
> 
> Thanks to [buhnebeest, a great beta, as ever, for looking this over for me.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/buhnebeest)


End file.
